Defying Gravity
by lydia martins
Summary: AU: Ally Dawson loves her job as a counsellor at Camp Powerchord, but her biggest pet peeve is the owner's son, Austin Moon. Will she change her mind when they're forced to work together or will they kill each other first? — Austin/Ally
1. one: welcome

**AUTHOR'S NOTE **— I know I'm already writing a summer-themed Auslly, but that one is more summer-lovin' type, this is more of the pride and prejudice typed (or jily, if you've read HP). This is also only in Ally's POV. And, you know, SN is half over and Love Songs only has one more part ... ;)

**DISCLAIMER **— Austin & Ally belong to Disney; The title of the story is from the song Defying Gravity in WICKED and the quote is not mine. :)

* * *

**Defying Gravity  
**_one_.

"_You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching, / Love like you'll never be hurt, / Sing like there's nobody listening, / And live like it's heaven on earth."_

— **william w. purkley**

"Welcome to Camp Powerchord, where you will enhance your vocal and musical prowess and make friends that you will keep for, hopefully, a long time!" Norman Moon, the camp's director, smiled at the audience, a sea of faces — boys and girls, men and women, children and parents. They all stared back at him with rapt attention, soaking in every word. I, on the other hand, had tuned out his spiel — and although this was my first summer as a counsellor, it was my fifth year overall and I knew that he made the same speech every year.

Instead, my eyes were roving the campgrounds — over the lush green trees and foliage, past the mess hall and canteen, and towards the cabins in the square. This was the first time that I would be sleeping in one of the cabins marked with 'counsellor', and, to be honest, I was pretty excited. After all, it wasn't every day that you got to boss kids around when it came to music. I was trying to soak in as much of the place I spent my summers at as possible.

Most teenagers would hate being stuck at a camp miles away from internet and good cell phone reception and Top 40 Radio stations, being forced to teach bratty kids about music notes and performing — but I had never fit into the description of a normal teenager. Besides, I was much too old to be a camper, and it was time that I taught my skill to the next generation. And, I would admit, I was looking forward to see my old friends again. I mean, I had emailed and Skype'd them a few times, and I even met Trish for coffee and shopping once when she was in the city, but the truth of the matter was — I lived in Miami; Dez and Trish lived in Pinewood, and I'd missed the easy batter of our last summer.

This year, though, I would be _paid_ to hang out with my friends and play music all summer — it was like some kind of paradise. I had snagged the coveted role of being a junior counsellor (whatever that was) and part-time lifeguard, yes — I was on my way to total domination. I like teaching the kids; most of the time, at least. " — and our skilled counsellors will lead you to your cabin; there are four boys' cabins, four girls' cabins; and _zero_ co-ed cabins." He directed the last part at a gaggle of teenagers who were laughing and talking and didn't seem to be paying attention to a word he was saying.

Beside me, I could almost feel Austin Moon smirking. Ah yes, the worst part of coming back to camp — the owner's son, Austin Moon. I'd say that he had a big head, but that would be offensive to bigheaded people everywhere. That boy was the epitome of insufferable — every time I saw him, he had a smug smirk on his face like he knew something that you didn't . . . just because his father was the owner and director of the camp. I grated my teeth together — hopefully I wouldn't have to spend more time than the necessary with him.

Mr. Moon finally dismissed us and I headed to the cabin in which I and three other female counsellors were supposed to stay. I could already hear the loud music blaring from inside the cabin despite the no loud music rule and smiled to myself, "Trish."

"You _do_ know that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, don't you?" an annoyingly familiar voice said from behind me. I scowled.

"Who asked you, Moon?" I snapped. He looked slightly shocked for a second but then the ever-present smirk came back. "I don't care what you have to say — " I began.

The boys' cabin door opened and a boy about our age with brown hair and eyes and a cute smile popped his head out, "Austin, do you want the top bunk?" And then he looked up and just seemed to notice me. "Oh — hey."

"Hi," I said; my voice sounded a bit breathless so I cleared my throat — and my thoughts. "I'm Ally."

"I'm Dallas," he replied, giving me an easygoing grin. I smiled back at him — at least there'd be _one_ sane boy. There was a crash from inside the cabin. Dallas quickly turned back to the cabin and groaned before facing us once more. "And unfortunately, I have to go. Coming, Austin? I think Dez is eating the toothpaste again . . . "

"I'm coming," Austin called out after him. "See you later, Dawson." He turned around and gave me his trademark smirk and I had to fight the urge to glare at him. That boy was so strange — one second he'd be almost normal, like a regular boy . . . and the next, he'd be back to his usual arrogant self.

_Boys_.

Once both of them were back in the cabin, I opened the door and was assailed by Adele's _Rumour Has It_ on full blast and attacked by a mass of curly brown hair. "Ally!" Trish screamed like it had been eons since we'd seen each other. "It's been way too long. Sit down, sit down, and let me introduce you to our fellow counsellors." Trish hadn't changed a bit.

"Hey," said a girl with long red hair and a big smile, "I'm Kate."

"And I'm Emma," added in another girl with bangs, blonde hair, and braces. "Call me Em. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Ally," I said, giving them each grins. "And it's nice to meet you too." Thank goodness my roommates looked that they had at least some semblance of sanity — well, besides Trish — and I decided that I might as well start unpacking now. I started arranging my clothes in my usual, almost methodical order. It was almost as if nothing changed, but I could feel it in the air — it was going to be a great summer. I just _knew_ it.

I let the other girls' chatter wash over me as I listened to classical music on my iPod — I know, I know, what kind of teenager listens to classical music — but I find it relaxing and calming. Making sure that none of the girls were watching, I took my secret songbook and stashed it under my pillow, praying to God that none of the other girls were snoopy. I don't know how much time passed as I unpacked my things into what would be home for the next two months.

"I'm starving," Emma declared suddenly, bringing me back to earth. "Can we go eat?" The question was mostly directed at me, since I was the only one who had not completed my packing; oh well, I suppose it could wait until we got back and I nodded.

"Sure. Let's go."

.

The Mess Hall — emphasis on the word _mess_ — was a squat, ugly, brown brick building that stood right in the middle of what we called the square (which was actually the semicircle of cabins and a small field surrounding it). Despite its rather ugly frame, the Mess Hall had been a source of many fun times. In fact, it was how Trish and I had met many years ago, but that is another story.

This time, however, instead of sitting on the scratchy and splintery wooden picnic tables, we got the good chairs. Trish and I exchanged smirks — no more checking for wood shavings whenever I stood up.

The bad news about our own dignified seating sections was the fact that all the counsellors had just one long table and I think we may have overstaffed this year. "C'mon," Kate said, her eyes as wide as saucers as they took in the whole room. Trish and I, who had been to this camp way too much, merely looked for the food line, and upon spotting it, we headed in that direction.

"I should have become a counsellor years ago," Trish said thoughtfully. "I mean — their food, _our_ food, is so much better." I had to agree with her on this one. There was a variety of choices, including (but not limited to): pasta, rice, fries, hamburgers, hotdogs, ice-cream, and the like.

After we had filled our trays, we fought through the long line of campers and counsellors towards the long staff table at the end of the room. "Whoever thought of this arrangement needs a few tips in interior decorating," Emma groaned as a hyper boy with a chocolate-stained face ran into her, almost making her drop her tray onto the ground. "It doesn't make any practical sense!" I shrugged at her.

"You should take that up with Mr. Moon, then."

"Or his really hot son," Kate suggested with a waggle of her eyebrow. Emma blushed at that.

"Are you joking? He's, like, totally intimidating!"

"And he and Ally have history. Lots of history," Trish said, interrupting them with an evil smirk. I shot her my best glare, something that hopefully conveyed _you'd better sleep with one eye open_ but judging from the sarcastic grin she gave in reply, it hadn't exactly worked as I'd hoped. Kate and Emma, on the other hand, were staring at me with gobsmacked and slightly jealous faces.

"Why didn't you tell us, Ally?" Kate said, almost drowning out all the other noise in the room. I clapped my hand over her mouth to keep her from yelling anymore.

Emma took this as an opportunity to pounce. "So tell us everything!"

I shot Trish another glare and face-palmed. "It was nothing. We just, you know, didn't really get along when we were at camp." They both stared at me, evidently wanting more, but I raised an eyebrow at them and they looked away, defeated.

No one spoke for the rest of the walk to the table and by the time we got there, the majority of the seats were taken. Trish had somehow managed to get a spot next to Dez, one of my friends I met at camp and her boyfriend (don't even ask me how _that_ one happened) and Emma and Kate snagged a pair of seats next to each other, leaving me on my own.

"Hey, Dawson," a voice hissed from beside me. "There's room over here." Yeah, right. There was no way that I'd ever, ever, even if the universe depended on it, sit beside Austin Moon willingly.

"In your dreams, Austin," I hissed, unaware that I had used his first name.

"More like my nightmares," he shot back at me, "just sit, Dawson. That doesn't make us friends or anything, and I don't have cooties, don't worry."

And that is how I spent my first dinner as a counsellor at Camp Powerchord — elbow to elbow with Austin Moon. I could practically feel Trish's smug look from across the table.

It was going to be an interesting summer, to say the least.

* * *

** AUTHOR'S NOTE II **— I hope that wasn't too horrible. Please_** DO NOT **_favourite or alert without leaving a review!

- Madeline (overstreets)


	2. two: early mornings

**AUTHOR'S NOTE — **Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter! I appreciate every single one of them!** BTW, important A/N at the bottom, thanks.**

**DISCLAIMER — **If I owned Austin & Ally, Auslly would already be happenin', and it's not so obviously, I don't, capiche?

Enjoy the chapter. :)

* * *

**Defying Gravity**  
_two_: early mornings

"_I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away from someone you don't love any longer. They don't teach you how to know what's going on in someone else's mind. They don't teach you what to say to someone who's dying. They don't teach you anything worth knowing_."

— **neil gaiman**

Mornings are my favourite part of the day — I don't know, maybe it's the sun leaving trails of blazing red-orange on the dew wetted grass, or maybe it's the lazy hum of crickets and insects and the sweet scent of pollen. Whatever it is, I've always been drawn to early mornings, and this one is no exception. At seven, I found myself sitting outside of the cabin, taking in gulps of the crisp air in an effort to calm my racing heart.

Today was the first day of camp — the first official day; where the actual instructing was done — and, yeah, it would be a bit of an understatement to say that I was nervous. After all, this would be the first time that I was solely responsible for teaching someone something . . .

But, you know, _no pressure or anything_ . . .

The morning air did have a somewhat calming effect on me, and I'll admit that now that I wasn't worried about the job that I would be working on in less than two hours, my mind did what it usually did when I wasn't paying attention: make up songs. I'll have to admit that it sounded a little bit like those cheesy songs with the repeated "Na na na" parts, but hey — I liked it.

I was startled out of creating my future masterpiece when I heard a cry from a distance — "Ally? Ally Dawson? Is that you?"

I shrieked because it couldn't, it just _couldn't_, be him. But it was — Elliot, my old friend from camp who I'd said goodbye to three years ago, never expecting to see him again. I flung myself into his toned arms excitedly. "Elliot — oh my God, Elliot!"

He still smelled the same to me — like fresh laundry and vintage guitar sales — and he let out the same familiar light laugh as he held me in his arms. Before you get ahead of yourself — no, I do _not_ like Elliot; I may have, once upon a time, harboured feelings for him but I was a different person then. Now, he was my goofy brother more than anything. Heck — we even looked alike with our matching dark hair, dark eyes, and smiles. "I'd heard that you were coming back from one of my roommates but . . . I could not let myself hope." I frowned at that.

I relished in the feeling of being in his arms for a few seconds more and then stepped out of his embrace. "Really? You kept in touch with Dez?" I was slightly shocked because despite the fact that Elliot was liked by almost anyone, even _I_ hadn't kept in touch with him and the chances that scatterbrained Dez _did_ —

"Dez? Murphy? Uh, no." Elliot looked slightly confused. "Your friend — uh, I forget, named after a city in Texas . . . "

"Dallas?" I asked, raising an eyebrow; truthfully, I knew that Dallas wasn't the one seeing as I'd only met him yesterday but the only other option was —

"No. Austin, that's what his name is." Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait — _WHAT_?

I smirked a little, "Don't you live with him — should you know his name?"

Elliot shrugged. "I'm bad at names, okay?" Same old Elliot.

"Anyway," I said, putting the conversation back on topic, "Austin was talking about me? What did he say?"

Elliot looked genuinely surprised. "You mean he didn't tell you?"

I rolled my eyes. "No. He did tell me and I just want you to repeat it, why?" The corner of his lips twitches as if he wanted to laugh but he managed to hold himself steady.

"Oh — well from the way that he was talking, you'd think that you guys were friends . . . " Elliot trailed off at my derisive snort. " . . . I take it that that's not the case, then?" he added uncertainly.

Of course; Elliot had left camp three years ago — the Incident That Must Not Be Named happened two years ago — anyone else would know of my rivalry with Austin Moon.

. . . But one thing that continually baffled me was that Elliot said that Austin had said I would return — he'd told Elliot, but why would he check to see if I returned? I'd have thought he'd be glad to see the back of me. Austin Moon was definitely an enigma that I was determined to crack by the end of the summer — if we didn't kill each other first.

.

Elliot and I talked until the wind started to seep in through my thin t-shirt and I began shivering uncontrollably. He'd chuckled and said, "Maybe you should go inside, Ally."

"N — no," I'd managed to stutter out. "I — I'm f — fine."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Get in there, Allyson." When he called me by my full name, I knew that I had no choice but to argue. Giving him one last reproachful look — to which he responded to "We have all summer, Dawson! But not if you get pneumonia and die!" — I dutifully went back into the cabin.

It was early morning still; the sun was painting brilliant red-gold stripes against the bunks, but no one seemed to be sleeping. The mood was unusually tense in the room, and for once the music was at a respectable volume. Even Trish, who was a fireball of energy, couldn't find it in her to make fun of me, and the sense of security that I'd gotten while talking to Elliot was starting to wane.

I fought the urge to stick a clump of hair into my mouth.

"I'm so nervous," Emma breathed from her bunk across the room, almost reading my thoughts. I tried to give her a reassuring look — but then I remembered that being reassuring wasn't one of my many qualities.

I gave her a nervous grin. "I know, so am I." The eerie silence that had replaced the ever-blasting stereo was starting to make me more nervous, and I really wished that I'd stayed outside talking to Elliot.

"This is killing me," Trish said, her brow furrowed, "can we just go and eat?" Anything to get out of this cabin and this horrible, _horrible_, waiting.

"Besides," Kate said, twirling a strand of blonde hair around her finger nervously, "it's almost eight and we start the camp stuff at nine; we'd better hurry." The other girls nodded.

I trailed behind them, not wanting to go to the Mess Hall but also not wanting to spend another minute in this cabin. The girls didn't seem to notice my apathy to the idea of breakfast, however, because they soon sped ahead of me. I probably could have caught up with them if I wanted to, but I didn't feel like it.

"Hey," someone said from beside me. "Since we're going to the same place, do you mind if I walk with you?"

I sighed. "Will you leave if I say no?"

He gave me his smirk. Usually, I would have already sped up and out of there, preferring to spend time with the girls and their meaningless banter over boys and fashion and how hot Andrew Garfield was but a question was burning on my tongue from the time that I'd spoken to Elliot.

"Moon, can I ask you a question?"

He gave me that infuriating look that made me want to smack him silly and said, "I believe you just did, Dawson."

"You are insufferable!" I groaned — I didn't even know why I'd bothered. "Why did you talk to Elliot about me?"

He froze, eyes widening and shoes making a crunching noise as they stopped abruptly. It took me a few seconds to notice that he had stopped and by the time he began speaking, I had to turn around and face him. "You were talking to him? What is he, your boyfriend?"

I let out an impatient huff. "No he isn't, and while I don't see why that would matter to you, I just want to know why you felt the need to tell one of my closest camp friends that I was returning this summer. Or why you felt the need to look at my file in the first place!"

"It doesn't matter to me," he said, and the sneer that had been absent from his voice for the last few minutes returned with a vengeance. "Now excuse me." With that, he brushed past me and into the Mess Hall, not looking back once.

It was only after I'd stared at his retreating figure for a few more moments than was necessary that I realized that he had not, in any way, answered my question.

Not one bit.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** — . . . and the plot thickens.

So Joyce (cascading rainbows) and I are running The Rocker Awards which are meant to showcase the best fanfiction in the Austin and Ally fandom, and they are the first official fanfiction awards for this particular archive. If you want to join, click on our profile The Rocker Awrds on ff . net and PM us with your email so we can update you with website updates, etc. Spread the word to your friends, please, and help us show everyone the best pieces in the A&A fandom!

Thank you for your support and PM me or Joyce for more information!

Please DO NOT fav / alert without leaving a review.

— Madeline (overstreets)


	3. three: the reaping

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** — So once again, thank you so much for all the reviews/favourites/alerts etc because it made my day. And remember to PM me if you have any interest at all in the Rocker Awards, okay?

**DISCLAIMER** — I own nothing. Also, disclaimers annoy the hell out of me so this is probably going to be the last one for this story because this site wouldn't be called **FAN**fiction if it was true, would it?

* * *

**Defying Gravity_  
_**_three_: the reaping

"Our life's a stage, a comedy: either learn to play and take it lightly, or bear its troubles patiently."  
—- **palladas**

By the time I get to the breakfast table where Trish, Dez, Katie, and Emma are sitting, I am absolutely fuming. Who exactly did Austin Moon think he was, talking to Elliot about me, looking In my file and completely ignoring my question after _he'd_ asked to walk with _me_? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

"Hey, Ally," Emma grinned when I finally sat down, slamming my plate onto the table. Emma raised an eyebrow. "O . . . kay?" I could tell that they were all curious about my annoyed behaviour, but He Who Must Not Be Named (no, not Voldemort) was looking my way so I quickly covered up with a fake smile.

"So guess what I heard?" Trish said after a few moments of silence in which Emma stared at me in a concerned way while I refused to look up at her. "It's about camp assignments," she continued in a tantalizing tone after no one spoke. Immediately, all eyes were on her, including mine.

Trish smirked, satisfied. "That's better. Well, a little birdy — "

"I like birds," Dez interrupted, a vacant expression on his face.

" — anyway," Trish continued, shooting an annoyed expression at her boyfriend. "I heard that they were going to put all the counsellors' names into a hat or something and draw them out in pairs, and that was who you'll be working on the Showcase with."

I chewed a bit of toast, mulling the thought over in my head — on one hand, it would be good working with some new faces; on the other hand, what if I got stuck with a hopeless person who would make me do all the work? I crossed my fingers and prayed to Tom Cruise that I got someone who was as passionate about music as I was. "That could go either way, you know," I said thoughtfully.

"I hope I get a cute guy," Kate said, eyes gleaming with the same teenage girl gleam that I had often seen in the eyes of girls at school. I fought the urge to roll my eyes — sure, I liked boys, but I never really understood how boys could be someone's whole life. In my opinion, that was quite unhealthy, actually. Perhaps that was the reason I hadn't liked Twilight . . .

"Right," I said awkwardly, trying not to roll my eyes, "So when will the draw take place?"

Trish frowned for a second, trying to remember. "I don't know . . . sometimes after breakfast, think."

"Great." I couldn't help but groan. "So then you don't even have the chance to flee to safety — "

"Aren't you being a tad melodramatic?" Emma said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, boo hoo I don't like my partner, is that something to leave the camp for? We came here for music not for friendship." I was seriously resisting the urge to throw my fork at the girl sitting across the table from me right now — she was criticizing me on making a joke when all she had done for the last twenty-four house I had known her was talk about boys.

I raised my eyebrow in challenge, almost daring her to continue. However, Trish, who knew me too well, interrupted before any blood could be shed. "Uh . . . anyway, moving on, ladies." I resisted the urge to laugh — it was usually Trish almost getting into fights and me being the peacemaker.

"I didn't, like, mean to offend you, Ally," Emma drawled, a bored look replacing the agitated expression that had been on her face just a second ago. "It's just — haven't you ever had a crush?" She and Katie both leaned in instinctively, as if expecting me to dish out a long history of being rejected by my crushes which was why I was now an old cat lady . . . ha! Not going to happen.

"Not any serious ones," I lied, "Just me and my music." Kate and Emma sat back again, once again subdued — for now, at least. A silence had descended over the table as no one knew what else to say, in a few hours or even a few minutes, we would get our drawing for the Showcase.

The Showcase was just what the name implied — after all, above all else, we were a music camp — at the end of every summer, they held a gala where the campers would each preform either a musical number or a famous composition, led by the counsellors. And this wasn't just kids fooling around with musical instruments — it was real; it was professional; it was _magic_. I had even heard rumours that scouts for music schools had sometimes attended, although I did not see any.

After breakfast, we all grouped around each other as we waited for the ball to drop. "Excited?" I heard Austin Moon whisper. I looked around, startled, but his eyes were intently on me and I knew that he was referring to me.

For some reason, my earlier plan of ignoring him didn't seem to want to go into action. "Kind of. You?"

"Nope," he said, a smirk making its way across his face.

I resisted the urge to punch him and instead rolled my eyes. "What — " The microphone let out a high-pitched noise, cutting off the rest of my sentence. Austin walked away while I was distracted and I had already lost Trish and the others, so it was just me there, lonely in a crowded room.

"Okay, so now," the Director began in a monotone voice, "we will begin drawing names. When your name has been drawn, you and your partner will come and get matching wristbands."

"Oooh, fun!" I heard someone squeal from behind me.

"First up — Dallas and Emma," he began. I sighed, finding a vacated chair — this was going to be long. I didn't pay much attention as he called names, only laughing when Dez and Trish became partners; something that would obviously end in a hospital trip and the 100 000$ prize on America's Funniest Videos.

Finally, the amount of people not wearing coloured wristbands began to want.

Everyone else gasped as Director Moon read the second last pair of names, although I did not exactly know why — "Elliot Brown and Kate Marrow." Elliot and Kate went up together, giving each other tentative smiles, before grabbing their matching red wristbands. Now, there were only the purple ones, and I realized with a sickening swoop, that whoever got the other purple one would be the person I'd have to work with for the rest of the summer.

I glanced around me, as if looking for possible candidates and was startled to find every eye, including Austin Moon's, on me, as if they were checking my reaction. I fought down the urge to chew a hank of hair, knowing that they would not find that particularly attractive and my eyes were drawn to a pair of brown ones. For some reason, some _unfathomable_ reason, because he'd been avoiding me all morning, I couldn't break eye-contact, but then I noticed his bare wrist. Just like mine. Because everyone else in the room had a wristband and a partner —

"No," I whispered slowly, shaking my head, "No, not him." He looked away at that, and I scoffed slightly. That comment probably didn't even hurt him — his ego was so big that it probably bounced off harmlessly.

"I'm sorry, Ally," Trish said from somewhere behind me, giving me a pat on the back.

"Well, I, for one, think you're lucky, Ally," Kate said wistfully, staring unabashedly at Austin. "I mean, he's a total babe!"

"Austin's not that bad," Elliot said fairly, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to listen to him, not now that my life was possibly ending — okay, I know that was a bit overdramatic but still, it felt that way at the time —

My brain finally seemed to realize what all these people were worried about — the "reaping" of partners. Austin was the only one who hadn't been picked yet. Well, he was the only one besides me. Meaning that there were only two names in the jar and —

"I'm going to have to work with _Moon_ on this assignment?!"

I was screwed.

Completely, 100% totally screwed. And there was nothing I could do about it was my legs moved me, in an almost mechanical function, towards the stage and closer to Austin and the purple ribbon and the rest of the summer.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE II** — Sorry for not updating sooner, I don't really have an excuse except lack of interest, so. Yeah, I hope you enjoyed so far. Sorry there wasn't much Auslly — next chapter will have loads, I swear.

Please **DO NOT** favourite or alert without leaving a review.

- Madeline (_overstreet_)


	4. four: partners

**AUTHOR'S NOTES — **Thanks for the reviews!

**Defying Gravity**_  
four_: partners

"Sometimes crying or laughing are the only options left, and laughing feels better right now."  
—- **veronica roth** ; divergent

I can feel the whole world falling apart and away from me, nothing is keeping me anchored as my feet move mechanically towards the stage where the director gives me an awkward smile that reads something like, _Sorry I partnered you up with your worst enemy!_ like that will change anything. I am not amused.

Side by side, and without speaking, we collect our wristbands from him, me refusing to meet either of the Moons' eyes nor the eyes of our captive audience, which still hasn't uttered a word since our names had been picked, a million eternities ago.

Finally, he dismisses us all, and the rest of the campers leave, chattering excitedly to themselves.

As I walk away from the stage, possibly to go write in my song book — if there was one good thing about this situation, it was the fact that it would make a brilliant angsty song; you know, if I ever got over my stage fright — someone grabbed me by the arm.

I was immediately assailed by the scent of guitar polish and musky cologne that I had become familiar with. "What do you want, Moon?" I hissed through my teeth, startling even myself with my ferocity.

He moved his arm away from mine, and I was suddenly cold on my shoulder, where he was no longer touching. Wait — why was I thinking like that? I hated Austin!

"Sorry," he said, and, for once, I could tell that he actually meant it. Of course, I didn't know whether he was sorry for me being partners with him or for him grabbing my shoulders.

"It's okay." I gave a small shrug, pretending that it meant nothing to me. But okay, I'll admit it, it did mean a little that the most arrogant boy on the planet had apologized to _me_, his worst enemy. Then again, I don't know if he considered me to be his archenemy — he was mine, but there could be an even bigger antagonist, according to him . . .

Still lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that he had started speaking again until he said, "So what do you think about that, Dawson?"

"Hm?" I asked, a slight blush covering my cheeks — I hated being caught not paying attention, and the blush had nothing, _absolutely_ nothing, to do with the intense look he was giving me right now. Honestly.

He scowled at me. "Okay. I'm going to repeat it and you'd better listen well, Dawson." I raised an eyebrow — who did he think he was, talking to me like that? — in fact, I had just opened my mouth to tell him to shove it when another one of his glares quieted me. "Just listen, okay? Then you can yell at me or whatever . . .?" he let the sentence trail off, giving me the time to choose an option.

Almost imperceptibly, I nodded my head, not believing that I would be going alone with what he, Aystin Moon of all people, was saying.

"Okay, good," he gave me a genuine smile, and I couldn't help but smile back, idly realizing that this was the first time that I had ever smiled at Austin Moon — well, the first time that I had smiled genuinely at him without planning some kind of painful torture methods . . . "I was saying that we should have a truce. A ceasefire, of sorts." He paused expectantly after this, as if expecting me to leap into his arms joyfully. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What do you mean a truce?" I wondered aloud, gazing up at him. I noticed that his eyes were hazel. Huh. It was kind of funny that I'd known Austin for almost half a decade, but I had just noticed the colour of his eyes . . . "We haven't killed each other yet. Isn't that enough of a ceasefire?"

His lips curve upwards slightly, as though he is resisting the urge to laugh, and I grin up at him. His expression, however, quickly turns serious. "Seriously, Dawson. It may not seem that way to you, but the Showcase is really important to me — "

I snort slightly disbelievingly, relishing in the ludicrous idea of Austin, the most self-centered person on the planet, actually caring about something . . .

There's a crease between his eyebrows now, and a small voice in the back of my head says that it would have been kind of cute, had it been any other person on the planet. It suddenly occurs to me that Austin may not be joking at all . . . "Of course! I should have known . . . I don't even know why I tried . . . forget it." He said the last part already turning away from me, already walking back to his friends, and I couldn't help but feel kind of bad — after all, the least I could do was listen to the guy and _then_ make fun of him.

"Moon, stop!" I called out, reaching out to grab his arm. He stiffened but still didn't turn around, possibly thinking that I just wanted to laugh at him some more.

A trickle of guilt was making its way into my bloodstream, and I resolved to listen to him, no matter how self-centered he spoke. "Austin, please, stop," I tried again, my voice noticeably kinder and more genuine. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening, and — " I let out a breath here, " — I want to hear what you've got to say." I didn't really, but if we were going to be partners for the next month, then we'd have to get along.

When he turned around finally, his face wasn't full of the anger that I'd thought it'd be full of — instead, his expression was neutral; whatever he was feeling was hidden under a cool mask. "The Showcase is really important to me — to my family — and, well, I want to do a good job. I know we don't get alone very well," this elicited a slight snort from me, "but we have to co-operate, for the group."

I let out a long sight; as much as I hated to admit it, he was one hundred percent correct. "Okay. Truce."

He nodded, but still didn't go back to his friends, instead, he was stepping from foot to foot, looking quite awkward, and I realized that there was something else that he had to tell me. Of course, my sixth sense once again proved correct when he said, in a slightly sheepish tone, "Doyouwannahavelunchwithme?"

I started at him, mouth agape. "Wait — what? I didn't hear a word of that, Moon."

His cheeks turned slightly red before he took a deep breath and said, much more slowly and much more clearly this time, "Do you want to have lunch with me today, Dawson?"

I, too, found myself going crimson at this — although I'd like to think that it was because of my dislike for Austin Moon . . . and not for any other reason at all. "Are you asking me on a date?" I asked him, eyes narrowed. "Because just because we have a truce does not mean that we're going to start dating and I don't even like you — "

He held a hand up to stop me, his face having regained its normal colour. "No. Ew. Like I'd ever want to date you, Dawson. Don't flatter yourself," he said in an arrogant tone, rolling his eyes. Now _there_ was the douchebag Austin I was familiar with — it seemed that the . . . _almost_ friendly Austin of a few minutes ago was gone.

"As if, Moon," I retorted with an eye roll of my own, "I was just hoping you weren't so I'd be safe from the nightmares tonight." I smirked at him; that was quite a good comeback, if I do say so myself.

"Oh ha ha ha." He gave me a sarcastic smile. "But, seriously, this isn't a date or anything like it. I just thought we'd, you know, try and collaborate over what we'll do for the Showcase."

"And we have to pick today?" I asked, still not truly trusting him.

He looked upwards, as if praying to the Gods that I'd be struck by lightning and he'd have a much smarter person to work with. "No, we don't. We only have today if we want a good show. Phantom, Cats, Evita, Wicked, and West Side Story are always the first to go, Dawson."

I nodded, conceding that he actually did have a point — I just hadn't thought about it because, until this year, I had been on the other side . . . the side that was performing, to my chagrin. "Okay. Fine. We'll have lunch together." The thought of having lunch with Austin made something akin to butterflies flutter in my stomach — because of the fact that he'd possibly try to poison my food . . . not for any other reason.

I nodded once at him and walked away, finding it easier to breathe the further away I got from him.

"You're going on a date with Austin Moon!" Trish squealed the second I had explained the reason why I was late to my cabin-mates. Emma and Kate, who had been in the middle of painting their nails, stared at me in shock, not noticing that the purple nail polish was slowly dripping onto the rustic wooden floor.

I sighed, knowing that she'd say that. "Trish," I said gently, "It's not a date if you ate them."

Trish looked at me like I was an idiot. "But you _don't_ hate him!"

"You're so lucky, Ally," Emma said, an envious expression on her face.

"Yeah, like, super lucky! I mean, you don't even like him," Kate said. I pretended not to hear Emma's muttered "Or so she says" and instead sat down on my bed, putting my headphones in.

They seemed to have a desired effect of telling my cabin-mates that I was not interested in discussing the matter further and I heard Emma's squeal when she realized that half her bottle had dripped onto the floor and made a rather large puddle.

"Oh my God! And I got these from a sample sale in New York . . . " Emma grumbled while Kate patted her consolingly on the back.

I resisted the urge to snap at them — they thought that such things as designer nail polish spilled was a problem, how about having lunch with your enemy, your _worst_ enemy, the guy that had ripped off your song and stolen it as his own . . .

Yeah, I definitely did not know how I was going to survive this summer.


	5. five: lessons

**Defying Gravity**  
_five_: lessons

"It's just that...I just think that some things are meant to be broken. Imperfect. Chaotic. It's the universe's way of providing contrast, you know? There have to be a few holes in the road. It's how life is."

-— **sarah** **dessen**,_ the truth about forever_

To say that I was nervous for the lunch date — no, _not_ a date — the lunch with Austin was a bit of an understatement. In fact, I was absolutely terrified; what if the entire thing was just a plan orchestrated by him so that he'd —

But then again, that didn't particularly add up; after all, if the Showcase was a bust, he had more to lose than I did, didn't he? Being the son of the owner and all. So it wouldn't exactly make sense for him to try and sabotage me . . . but then again, he did steal my song Double Take all those years ago, without apology, so who's to say he changed?

But the look in his eyes had said that he'd changed.

I sighed, looking up for the first time in an hour, surprised to see that I was completely alone. I checked the clock which read that it was half past ten in the morning. I still had a few hours left until doomsday, I supposed, and I really should have been setting up for first lesson, which would be teaching little kids piano.

I stifled another groan, wanting nothing more than to curl up into a small ball and sleep forever. Of course, rationally, I knew that it wasn't an option and I couldn't allow Austin to see how much he was getting to me; I had to pretend that this lunch . . . _thing_ was as casual to me as it was to him, that was certain.

And I was a pretty good actress, I could act like it.

It wouldn't mean a thing — absolutely nothing.

I stood up, walking over to the miniscule bathroom that we have to fix my hair — I may not be overly concerned about my appearance but that does not, by any means, mean that I don't want to look good, even for my enemy.

"Welcome back to the real world, Dawson," Trish greeted, a grin covering her face as I joined the group which, right now, consisted of Trish, Dez, and Dallas.

"Where's everyone else?" I asked, referring to Elliot, Emma, and Kate, although I'm glad that the last two aren't here — I'm not particularly in the mood to listen to them talk about what I should where and my apparent asexuality — I'm quite curious as I've seen them always hanging around with us.

"Eh — they're counselling. I think they're working at the arts and Crafts center," Trish replied, smirking.

I, too, cannot help a small chuckle at the thought of Emma and Kate, two of the most girly people I know, being counsellors and helping little kids with making macaroni necklaces. "That's funny," I said with a smile.

"You know what's funny?" Dez interruptsed, looking like he has no clue what he's talking about.

Trish rolls her eyes at her boyfriend, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. "No one cares what you think, Dez." And although the words are harsh, I can sense the softer undertone and I watch as Dez and Trish communicate with each other, without speaking. I feel kind of lonely watching them — I know that they argue and fight more than the average couple, but that's what makes them Dez and Trish and I know that they'll always care for each other . . .

Dallas gave me an awkward smile, also feeling left out as the couple continued to speak without actually speaking. "This kind of makes it suck to be single, **d**oesn't it?" he said with a grin.

I couldn't help the small snort that escaped from me at those words. Dez and Trish, however, are in their own little world and don't seem to notice us lonely souls. "Yep."

"Well," he replied with a slight shrug. "I'm not exactly single . . . my girlfriend, Cassidy, lives in Los Angeles." I blinked at him, surprised.

"Oh. Do you live in L.A. too . . . ?" I wondered aloud, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed, giving me a flash of his white teeth. "Yeah, but I spend my summers in Florida with my dad, and he mentioned this camp, so . . . "

I like talking to Dallas, I really do, but he shifts just a little and I see past him into the mess hall and see that the time is ten to eleven; if I don't leave, like, now, I'll be late for my first lesson. And that is not the type of impression I want to make on my first day of work. Not at all. Smiling slightly at Dez and Trish, I say a quick, "Bye!" to Dallas, I run to the practice room where I'm supposed to be teaching a little girl or boy how to play the piano in a few minutes — or, hopefully, I'll be showing them how to better improve their piano skills: after all, this was a music camp and they should have at least some proficiency in music, right?

I quickly set up the place and I don't have much more than a few than a few moments of breathing time when there is a slight knock on the door. I wondered if this person is nervous, seeing as this could be their first lesson. I tried to mold my face into something much more friendly and comforting.

A small girl, no older than nine, walked in, blonde curls bouncing with every step. She is, quite possibly, one of the cutest girls that I've ever laid eyes on. "Hi," she said, a small smile on her face. "I'm Ellie."

I looked at the list, checking for an Ellie. Surprisingly, there isn't one and I frowned. "Is Ellie your full name, darling?"

"No," the girl said in a near whisper, "my full name is Elizabeth but no one calls me that . . . well, except for Aus, but he's a big, silly baby, anyway." She let out a small giggle and I fought the urge to smile back at her, choosing instead to go back to the register.

What I saw there made me stop short. There was only one Elizabeth on the register — Elizabeth Moon.

I swallowed but my throat felt like it was full of cotton right now. "Are you . . . by any chance . . . related to Austin Moon?"

She smiled again. "Yeah, he's my older cousin."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. I had known Austin for years and yet the small fact that he'd had a younger cousin had never been brought up. "Oh, I didn't know that." But then again, we weren't even friends — there was really no point in knowing that because I didn't even _like_ him.

"Really?" she asked, the tone of her voice peaking my interest. "I thought you two were friends."

I couldn't help the incredulous snort that came out at that — the thought of me being friends with Austin was just that ridiculous. "_Friends_? I don't even like him. When did he say we were friends?"

Ellie shrugged, "He didn't exactly say you two were friends — he just talks about you a lot and says that you're really pretty and — " she froze, face draining of all colour. " — I wasn't supposed to tell you that! Pretend that I didn't say anything . . . you weren't supposed to . . . " she blushed in that adorable way only little kids could.

"It's — it's okay," I managed, slightly breathless at the thought of Austin thinking of me as pretty. I mean, sure, I'd gotten a lot of compliments from guys before about my looks . . . but coming from someone I hated? I didn't understand it.

"Why do you hate each other?" Ellie piped up, looking up at me. "Or, why do you hate him?"

"He stole my song, a long time ago," I said with a sigh.

She hasped appropriately. "What?"

I let out a low breath, not knowing whether or not I should continue. As I gazed down at Ellie, I noticed that she had the same eyes as Austin. I looked away.

"When I was a camper here, we were going to do Showcase, and I'd written a song called Double Take, except I wasn't planning on singing it — and the Austin heard it and sang it as his own, without giving me dues."

I didn't explain the full story, now was not the time, and it occurred to me that this was a nine year old . . . we should be doing the lesson.

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes.

"Uh — Ally," she said after a few moments of silence, looking up at me through golden eyelashes, "Shouldn't we be working on the music? It's almost ten past eleven."

Oh, right. I had honestly forgotten that we had a lesson. Great.

"Right," I said, my cheeks turning crimson — to be honest, I had gotten a little bit carried away, but, as some ancient person had once said, _know thy enemy _and I had learned a lot about Austin. "Back to the lesson. Do you know Scarborough Fair?"

I tried not to think of how, in less than an hour, I would be sitting across from the table, facing Austin.

* * *

**A/N II**: Ooh, and so the ball drops. And the not date (which is totally a date) is next chapter, yay!

Please don't forget to review.


	6. six: the not a date date

**Defying Gravity**  
_six_: the 'not a date' date

"from the very beginning— from the first moment, i may almost say— of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and i had not known you a month before i felt that you were the last man in the world whom i could ever be prevailed on to marry."

**—–**** jane austen**, pride and prejudice

I was sitting across the table from my enemy, unable to look away from his eyes, my stomach and brain and heart a mess of jumbled nerves and frazzled thoughts —

_Breathe, Ally_, I reminded myself, letting out a breath that sounded more like a sputtering cough. I had to pretend that this lunch date not date thing — whatever it was — wasn't affecting me, it seemed that he could tell, however, and there was a slight smirk on his face

Or perhaps that was his usual face . . .

Either way, I wanted to punch it off.

I suppose I should start at what happened for the rest of the lesson, first, before I get back to the lunch planning thing which is most definitely not a date because we'd have to, you know, actually like each other for that and I could barely tolerate him at the best of times —

. **.** .

Half An Hour Earlier

The rest of the lesson had passed without incident, aside from a few sticky moments where she reminded me too much of Austi — _Moon_; I couldn't be calling him by his first name . . . that would mean that we had some form of acquaintanceship. All in all, though, she seemed to love music, which was a relief for me.

Although, I'll admit that my mind was definitely not on her musical skills as the clock ticked closer and closer to doomsday. "Are you nervous for your date with Austin?" Ellie piped up after I had failed to comment on her spectacular rendition of _Ode To Joy._

I jumped out of my seat, blushing to the roots of my hair. "_Oh my God_! Where did you hear that, anyway?" that was before I caught myself, "I mean — I'm not nervous because it is not a date, okay?" My voice sounded weak, even to me, and she gave me a piercing look that said, without actually saying anything, _who are you trying to convince . . . me, or yourself_?

And I honestly did not know the answer.

"Oh, okay." Ellie smiled up at me, a smile that reflected her relation to Austin, definitely. And yet, instead of being repulsed by this resemblance to Austin, I smiled back, unable to help myself.

Austin would be a whole lot better looking if he wiped that stupid smirk off his face and decided to finally smile for once. _Oh my God_! I did not just think that! Oh my God —

"I think my lesson is over now," Ellie said quietly, excusing herself, while I worked on regaining the power of speech. "See you later, Ally." She gave me a small wave and smile which I did not return and skipped away, blonde hair bouncing off her shoulders.

Now that the lesson was over, and there was no one else to distract me, my mind was already thinking about the lunch thing that was going to be happening soon. Almost immediately, something that felt like butterflies were dancing in my stomach.

I looked at the clock — I had about fifteen minutes left before the actual lunch came, just enough time to run back into my cabin and change into something nice; not that I was trying to impress him in any way, I just wanted . . . uh . . . I don't know, but it was most definitely _not_ for him.

"Hey, Ally," Elliot called as I ran past him.

I grinned at him but didn't stop on my beeline to the cabin, leaving him in the dust. I don't know why, but I wanted to almost impress Moon.

"Hi, Dawson," Trish greeted when I flung myself through the door, clutching stich in my side and panting for air. "Excited for your date?" I heard Emma and Kate give identical little titters and I mustered just enough energy to glare at the three of them.

"Not . . . a . . . date," I wheezed between gasps. God, I really needed to get in shape. "I . . . just want to . . . take a shower."

"I picked out the perfect dress for you, anyway, Ally," I heard Emma call as I closed the bathroom door, sinking to the ground.

I look a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down — it was, after all, only lunch. Nothing to be worried about. That didn't stop my pounding heart, though.

After the worlds quickest shower, with my hair still dripping wet, I emerged from the bathroom to see an outfit carefully laid on my bed. I smiled a little — despite the fact that Emma was somewhat annoying and boy-crazy, she sure had great fashion sense. It was a flower print skirt with a black tank-top and a denim jacket over it; something that I would most definitely wear, and, as a bonus, it wasn't very different from my normal attire so it wouldn't seem like I was dressing up for him; which I wasn't. _Really_.

I checked the clock, realizing that I was ten minutes late. Oh crap. Cursing, I but my hair up into a messy bun looking back at the cabin before running out and —

"Whoa, Dawson, watch where you're going — I was just looking for you!" Of course, I had fallen (literally) right into the arms of my enemy. I bet that God, or whoever was up there, was laughing at me right now. "Look — I know you're excited to see me, but there's no need to jump me, okay?"

Somehow, his tone was softer than usual and I remembered Ellie's words _he thinks you're pretty_. Inexplicably, I found myself blushing. "Whatever," I said, trying to cover up my flaming cheeks, "I was just on my way to find you."

He raised an eyebrow at me, as if he somehow doubted my story, and I stared back at him defiantly. "Well, I suppose we can go to lunch now."

I nodded and we walked to the Mess Hall, where, as usual, the occupants seemed to be in the middle of some kind of food fight. "What do you want? I can go get it for you," he said.

"Moon, this isn't a date. Which means I can get my own food," I said a bit bluntly. His cheeks coloured and I felt a slight twinge of guilt. "But fine — if you insist, can you get me some salad. With extra pickles?"

He nodded, smile back on in full force. "Okay, perfect. Wait, I didn't know you liked pickles."

I gave him a wink, "And I didn't think you'd care."

He went to get the food and I sat alone at the table with what I felt like everyone's eyes on me. I tried to breathe in and out like my therapist had taught me, but somehow, the only thing that I could think of is he thinks you're pretty and —

"I brought your food," Austin said, saving me from realizing some possibly damaging truths.

I dug in, simply looking for something to do. "Thanks, Moon."

He grinned at me. "No problem."

For some reason, his grin left me unable to breathe for a few moments.

And that is where we started off; me and Austin in some kind of stare-down, the food virtually untouched. Oh yeah, and me attempting to breathe but being distracted by Austin.

"So . . . uh . . . I guess we should find what we're going to do for the showcase, huh?" he said, breaking the spell that had enraptured me for a minute — or five.

"Oh, right," I said, growing red in the face. I was slightly annoyed — what was it about Austin Moon that made me act so . . . _weird_? "So what were your ideas?"

"I was thinking that we could mix up two of the most famous Broadway shows ever!" Austin said, his familiar smirk back in place.

I stared at him blankly.

"_Wicked_ and _Phantom Of The Opera_ — we could do some sort of mash-up, and it'd be original; no one has ever done something like this before," Austin let his voice drop, as if fearing that the other people in the mess hall were listening. "Like, imagine _Think of Me_ and _Defying Gravity_ together. Think about it, Ally."

I glared at him, taking another bite of the pickle. "Don't call me Ally. Only my friends call me Ally."

He raised an eyebrow, "Is that seriously all you've gotten from that?"

I chewed slowly, pretending to mull the thought over in my head but, really, I was just doing it to annoy Austin. "I like the idea," I said finally, "And the concept."

He grinned proudly — and it wasn't his usual _I'm better than you _grin. Instead, it was something more modest, something more real. I liked that grin.

"But I have a question," I said, frowning. The grin slipped off his face. "No one automatically thinks _Wicked_ and _Phantom_ mash-up the minute they learn about the showcase, do they, so why did you?"

He blushed, "I've had that idea for a while, actually."

"So wait, if you already had an idea for the showcase, then why did you ask me to have lunch with me?" I demanded, glaring at him without any real conviction.

"Because, I don't know, I wanted to spend time with you," Austin said, a slight blush colouring his cheeks, "As friends, of course." For some reason, I, too, found myself blushing.

I was faced with an option here — bury the hatchet and give Moon a chance, or go back to my hatred. Somehow, I knew that I only really had one option.

Nonetheless, I gave him a smile. "Okay. We can be friends. If you promise to stop being less of an annoying prick and actually act normal."

He gave me an even bigger grin, showing his teeth, and I was left breathless for a moment. "Okay, I promise. I won't screw with you any more, Dawson."

"You can call me Ally," I said, smirking a little.

"Okay, Ally," he said, winking.

We stared at each other before breaking into raucous fits of laughter. To be honest, I had no clue why we were laughing — perhaps it was the fact that years of hatred (on my part, at least) were on their way to being abated. We were going to have a fresh start.

People at other tables were staring at us like we had lost our heads, and I wouldn't be surprised if they were right, but laughing with Austin right now; I didn't care one bit.

* * *

**A/N**: Because I couldn't decide on whether I wanted them to do Phantom or Wicked they're doing both.

Blame Chris Colfer for the majority of this chapter. I had him on replay. :')

Don't favourite or alert without reviewing.


	7. seven: moonlit walks and campfire talks

**Defying Gravity_  
_**_seven_: moonlit walks and campfire talks

"twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. so throw off the bowlines. sail away from the safe harbor. catch the trade winds in your sails. explore. dream. discover."

**— h. jackson brown jr, **_ps i love you_

The firelight gave everything an orange glow, and the crackling noise smelled like home. The smell of roasting hotdogs and marshmallows was in the air and a sigh of contentment rose from me as I saw my friends chattering with each other.

We were getting ready to go back to our cabins soon, but for now none of us wanted to get up.

Occasionally, I would catch Austin's eyes on me, and when I'd raise an eyebrow in question, he'd look away like nothing happened. "I wonder what that's about," I murmured to myself.

Emma, who was sitting next to me, sighed, "He, like, totally loves you, Ally."

I let out a laugh; the thought of that was so ludicrous, actually. "Emma, Emma, Emma, Emma. You naïve child. We barely even get along, you see. It would be impossible for him to like me."

"He does," Emma said seriously, "he has for a while."

"Emma, seriously."

"I read people — and I read him; you hate him but your hate is thinly veiled attraction and he's always liked you but he's afraid that he blew his chance with you, that's why he acts like he hates you."

We got up and began heading for our cabin. "No he doesn't."

"He's totally crazy about you, Ally, when are you going to see that?" Emma asked me just as we got through the threshold of the cabin.

"I call first shower!" Kate yelled.

"No way, I called dibs yesterday!" Emma argued, and just like that, her attention was off me.

Because she was crazy. Insane. Mad. Austin Moon couldn't like me! _But he thinks you're pretty_, the annoying voice in the back of my mind thought.

I shook away those crazy thoughts, focusing instead on how tired I was.

However, after I changed into my pyjamas, instead of crawling right to sleep like the other girls, I decided to write about my day — so that I'd always remember every bit of this summer, even during the monotonous school months.

_Dear Diary, _

_Today was my first full day at camp and it was, most definitely, full of surprises. The biggest being Austin Moon, of course. I think I've mentioned him before. Okay; I know I've mentioned him before — mostly using words like "worst enemy" and "bane of my existence" and "I curse all of thy children to have three arms and two heads" but the last one doesn't count because I was in a state when I wrote it, okay?_

_Uh, anyway, where was I? Oh, right, Austin Moon. Well, today we got who our partners were going to be for the showcase thing and guess who I got? Yup, our favourite son of the camp director. Anyway, I was less than pleased at this — and that's putting it quite mildly — and I was ready to kill him, if he did anything to screw this up for me. But here's where it gets weird; he called a truce._

_And Emma, one of my fellow counsellors, says that his hatred is thinly veiled love or something. What a load of BS, right?_

_Except every few minutes his eyes would always be on me, and he told his cousin that I'm pretty . . . _

_Could Austin Moon actually like me?_

_Or, and this is even more top-secret, could I actually _

"Turn of the light!" I heard Kate yell from her bunk, covering her head with the pillow.

"Can you turn of the light, Dawson!" Trish snapped at me after fifteen minutes.

I gave her a theatrical sigh, trying to read what I had written. I suppose that it was a good length — besides, Trish's look was getting downright hostile — and I closed the book, quickly running to turn off the light.

Sleep didn't find me immediately, as I hoped it would — after all, I had an early practice with Austin tomorrow, and, knowing him, he'd want to keep me on my toes — but after what felt like an eternity of tossing and turning, I finally gave up on sleep, choosing instead to take a walk; that usually put me in the mood to sleep at home, anyway.

A quietly slipped out of my pyjamas and closed the door with a snap, thinking the Lord that I didn't wake Trish up.

"Ally, what are you doing here?" a voice asked from behind, making me squeal in fright and jump.

"Moon — don't scare me like that!" I hissed, rolling my eyes, although he probably couldn't see me in the darkness.

"I thought we were friends now. Friends don't call each other by their last names," Austin said. I could pretty much hear the smug smirk in his voice and, once again, I fought the urge to punch it off.

"We just became friends today, Moon, and besides," I hissed, "Friends don't wait outside friend's cabins for them to come outside. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"What are you doing here?" he fired back, raising an eyebrow.

"Couldn't sleep," I mumbled after a few moments of intense glaring, knowing that he wouldn't back down.

"Want to go on a walk?" Austin asked, giving me a sidelong glance.

I guess we did have more in common than I previously thought. "Sure."

We walked together through the campgrounds, watching the darkened cabins as we went by them, making up stories about their inhabitants. "Want to play a game?" I asked suddenly, bored of playing it in my head.

"Uh — sure," it was Austin's turn to look slightly nervous.

"Oh, don't worry; I won't kill you," I said with a smirk. "Every time we walk by a monument, we have to make up a story about why it's there or what happened."

Austin nodded in understanding, "Uh, that tree over there was put there because campers thought that the tree nymphs would protect them from the boogey-man." We both stared at each other, and then promptly burst out laughing.

"That lamp-post that we just passed used to be a camper. They got on the wrong side of Cook Lou, and said her meat was undercooked," I said between giggles.

He smirked, "That cabin over there is haunted. Some kid had an asthma attack after he saw his counsellors, ah, getting it on in his bunk. They say that if two counsellors break in there on a moonlight night, just like this one, his ghost will appear, yelling 'Chastity!'"

This time, I burst into full on hysterics, "That's just a rumour . . . to keep . . . people from . . . you know . . . in the cabin!" I argued, rolling my eyes.

"Let's go check, then," his eyes were gleaming and the moonlight made him, quite literally, glow.

"N — no," I said, trying not to portray the nervousness that I felt.

Judging from his smirk, I hadn't done quite a good job. "You're scared," he said tauntingly.

"I am not!" I lied.

"You are!"

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No I'm not; in fact, let's go," I don't know where this bravado came from — perhaps it was a last bit of adrenaline before I died — but I could tell that he definitely wasn't expecting that. "Scared?" I threw back tauntingly.

"Of — of course not." Austin, still looking stymied, followed me into the cabin.

There was no one in here — probably due to a shortage of campers this year, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Suddenly, I heard a small voice say, "Chastity! Chastity!"

"Not funny, Austin," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. Honestly, he wasn't scaring me.

"What's not funny?" he asked just as I heard the voice again.

"How do you do that?" I was really starting to get annoyed now.

"Do what?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Ha ha ha," I laughed sarcastically. "Just _stop_, Austin."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dawson," Austin yelled, just when the voice was at its loudest.

"YOU WILL NEVER DEFILE THIS CABIN AGAIN!"

"Austin?" I said tentatively.

No response.

"Austin? Seriously?"

Nothing.

"GET OUT, GET OUT!"

Okay, I'll admit that I was starting to get a little freaked out — and by a little, I meant a lot. My heart was racing and the blood in my veins was like electricity.

"Ahhh!" I screamed, wanting to get as far away from this haunted cabin as I could.

I ran out of the cabin without a second glance, and —

WHAM.

Right into Austin. Yay.

Austin was smirking and holding up an iPod; an iPod which was repeating, "Chastity! Chastity!"

I was torn between wanting to hug him and wanting to kill him. I chose the latter.

"I hate you!" I screamed at him while he doubled over in laughter.

"It was just a joke, Dawson!" he said in between chuckles. "No need to get your knickers in a twist!"

"You — are — an — idiot!" I said, accentuating every word with a smack.

"Not my fault you were scared," he argued.

"I — was — not — scared," I lied.

"You were!"

"I wasn't!"

"You were!"

"_I wasn't!"_

"_You were!"_

"I WASN'T!"

I didn't notice how loud we had gotten.

"Hey, who's over there?" we heard. "Stop!"

We glanced at each other and simultaneously began running. In which direction, I don't know.

I had hardly noticed that we had made a circle and were now right where we started. The easygoing mood that had surrounded us for the entirety of our walk disappointed — this almost reminded me of a date; the part where the gentleman either kissed the lady or waved goodbye awkwardly.

"Er, good night," Austin said, obviously also noticing the awkwardness of this statement.

"I had fun, Moo — Austin," I said, smiling at him, "Even though you're an idiot, I had fun."

I watched him walk away.

By the time I got back to the cabin, I was absolutely exhausted. Not even bothering to change back into my pyjamas, I fell onto the bed and was asleep in minutes.

My first day of camp was officially over.

* * *

**A/N II:** I know, I _know_, super short chapter — hardly worth an update, but I just wanted to show the Auslly friendship and how, even though they call themselves "friends", they won't be all lovey dovey — they'll still argue like crazy and drive each other mad – think Ron and Hermione, yes?

Let's see if we can make it to 100 reviews, now!


End file.
